


A Poca a Poca

by SirLancelotTheBrave



Series: Tumblr prompts and oneshots [3]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Athos and Aramis are squabbling children, Banter, BrOT4, Fluff, Gen, Heels, Porthos is ridiculously amused, d'Artagnan is just confused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 06:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2299916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirLancelotTheBrave/pseuds/SirLancelotTheBrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aramis is tired of being the shortest, so he decides to do something about it. Athos doesn't like being bumped down a peg. Hilarity and fluff ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Poca a Poca

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WizzKiz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WizzKiz/gifts).



> "Hey there, you lovely thing, you. I don't suppose there's any chance for a fluffy-friendly ficlet about the boys, where Aramis and Athos are competing to see who's taller, and Porthos and d'Artagnan are just despairing? Bonus points if they start cheating!"
> 
> As you wish ;)

It was D'Artagnan who first noticed that something was different. "Aramis?" he asked, frowning slightly at the older Musketeer. "Did you get taller?"

D'Artagnan saw Athos and Porthos turn curious gazes on their friend. "Don't be ridiculous," Aramis scoffed.

"He's right," Porthos chuckled. "You were shorter than Athos yesterday."

"I was not!" Aramis huffed indignantly.

Athos sniffed. "Of course you were. By about a quarter of an inch. Come now Aramis, we all know this."

"I don't know what you're all talking about," Aramis said, a little too breezily. D'Artagnan ducked his head, glancing at Aramis's boots and grinning when his suspicions were confirmed.

"He's raised the heels on his boots," he smirked.

"I would never!" Aramis protested hotly, but Porthos was already leaping on the opportunity.

"You did, didn't you? Ha! What's wrong, tired of being the shortest one all the time?" he teased. Aramis shot him a glare that could rival Athos's, but Porthos only laughed.

"Really, Aramis, don't you think that's a bit childish?" Athos asked disdainfully.

Aramis flashed him a charming smile, recovering magnificently from his discovery. "It's the newest fashion, _mon ami_. Soon everyone will be doing it."

D'Artagnan snorted at the disgruntled look on Athos's face, but before the older Musketeer could respond, Treville called to them from his office.

As D'Artagnan followed Athos up the stairs, he didn't miss the way his friend kept eying Aramis's extra height with dissatisfaction.

He had a feeling this wasn't over.

The next morning, Athos had gained an quarter inch on Aramis once more.

Aramis gaped at him, a look of incredulity crossing his face for a moment before he recovered his poise. " _Mon ami_ , may I complement you on your foray into the grand world of fashion?" The edge of his mouth seemed to twitch, and D'Artagnan hid a grin at his friend's obvious displeasure. Next to Aramis, Porthos was looking like his birthday had come early.

Athos smiled blithely. "Why thank you, Aramis. I thought perhaps it time I rejoined proper society."

Aramis flashed him another charming smile and brushed past him to report to Treville, the faint line across his forehead betraying his irritation.

When Aramis arrived at the tavern that evening, he had a full half inch on Athos.

"Don't you think this is getting a bit ridiculous?" D'Artagnan whispered to Porthos as they went to fetch the wine.

"Are you kidding?" Porthos asked, a gleeful look on his face. "This is fantastic!"

"But they won't be able to walk soon!" D'Artagnan pointed out, a chuckle rising from his chest at the thought.

Porthos just grinned delightedly.

Treville had given them the next day off, but when D'Artagnan arrived at the garrison the following morning it was to find that Athos had raised his heels a whole inch. They now looked not so much like boots as lady's shoes. He glared at them all as if daring them to say anything.

Porthos took that dare.

"Can you even walk?" he asked, poorly restrained laughter coloring his voice.

Athos sniffed. "Of course I can."

Before Porthos could demand he prove it, Aramis arrived, walking more slowly than usual. D'Artagnan glanced between him and Athos and realized the pair of them had managed to lift themselves to precisely the same height.

He tried to hold back his giggles as they stared blankly at one another. Each one was several inches taller than normal, at about the same height he was. He caught Porthos's eye and failed to suppress a bark of laughter at his friend's thrilled look.

Treville took one look at them, shook his head, and sent them off to patrol the streets, muttering something about 'useless children.'

As it turned out, neither man could walk effectively with their ridiculous heels, though Athos was managing slightly better, having been taller to start with. Their progress through the streets was slow, and D'Artagnan worried Porthos would pull a muscle from trying to restrain his laughter.

"One of you ought to just give up," D'Artagnan told them, the corners of his mouth twitching furiously at the enraged looks they both shot his way.

"My dear boy, whatever can you mean?" Athos asked.

Aramis nodded sagely. "The heat must have gone to his head."

He went to step forward down the street, nose held in the air like a particularly snooty noble, but his heel twisted awkwardly beneath him and he dropped to the dust in an ungainly heap.

Porthos moved towards him, a line of worry creasing his brow, and D'Artagnan guessed he thought Aramis had hurt himself. But the furious blush that had risen to Aramis's cheeks told him the only thing his friend had wounded was his pride.

He sent a pleading look up at the larger Musketeer looming over him. It was the most intentionally pitiful thing D'Artagnan had ever seen, and Porthos had always been wrapped around Aramis's finger. With a brief apologetic glance at Athos, he leaned down and swept Aramis off the ground and onto his back in one smooth move, his face breaking into a pleased grin at Aramis's hoot of joy.

Athos glared at Porthos as if he had committed some grievous sin while Aramis preened. "Now who's taller?" he taunted gleefully, apparently forgetting his feigned ignorance of the past few days.

"Forward, _mon cher_!" he shouted happily, and Porthos obeyed with an easy smile, striding off down the street with Aramis perched on his shoulders, waving back at them smugly.

Athos stared after him darkly for a moment. Then D'Artagnan felt his gaze land squarely on him.

"No," he said firmly, backing away. "Athos, no! Not a chance."

Athos raised an eyebrow and gestured imperiously, motioning towards the ground just in front of him. D'Artagnan groaned but submitted, allowing Athos to clamber onto his back.

"This is hardly dignified," he muttered irritably.

"Hush," Athos said, sounding so imperial that D'Artagnan nearly dropped him for the hell of it. It wouldn't be worth what Athos would put him through in training that evening though.

Porthos had paused up ahead, and he and Aramis were watching with twin grins of utter delight as D'Artagnan attempted to stagger forward and join them. He made it three meters before deciding that this was not what he had signed up for.

In one smooth motion, he flopped to the dust, falling in such a way that Athos rolled off of him. He lay there, sprawled over the ground and grinning up at Porthos, whose eyes were twinkling mischievously.

A few seconds later, Aramis joined them on the ground.

Porthos stood over them all, roaring with laughter. D'Artagnan joined him, ignoring the poisonous glares the other two shot them.

At last Porthos subsided, wiping at his eyes. "Have you two seen the error of your ways yet?" he asked, a smile still playing about his lips.

"I don't know what you mean," Athos said, his voice stiff. Aramis just glared mutinously.

Porthos shrugged, looking unconcerned. "Alright then." He leaned down and yanked the boots from Aramis's feet, doing the same to Athos a moment later. Both men rose from the dust irately, but Porthos dangled the offending articles just out of reach.

"If you two want to behave like kids, I'm gonna have to take your toys away," he said, grinning impishly. Without waiting for a response, he hurled the boots over the nearest wall.

Athos and Aramis gaped at him as D'Artagnan dropped is head back against the ground, choking on dust as he laughed uncontrollably.

Porthos dusted his hands off, looking pleased with himself. "That's that, then." He reached down and hauled D'Artagnan to his feet.

Athos still looked displeased, but Aramis looked distressed. "Porthos," he said despairingly. "I was using coins to make the heels taller!"

Porthos's grin slipped for a moment, and he looked guilty. "Why'd you go and do that, eh?"

Aramis shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "I didn't have anything else! I didn't think they would get thrown into a garden."

Athos yawned, looking bored. "Stop worrying. I'll compensate you."

Aramis shot him a grateful smile, earlier enmity forgotten. "Thank you, _mon ami_."

"Don't mention it," Athos said lightly. "Just promise you'll stop trying to be taller, and we'll call it even."

Porthos smiled, looking relieved that he hadn't accidentally cost Aramis his savings. "Best get back to the garrison to change. Can't have these two wandering about Paris with no boots on, can we?"

Aramis and Athos exchanged a look that promised revenge, then turned as one to smile wolfishly at Porthos and D'Artagnan, who stepped quickly behind the larger Musketeer.

He had a feeling this wasn't over.

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? Have a request? Let me know in the comments!


End file.
